


falling, falling

by virere (myosotises)



Category: Grey's Anatomy
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Friends to Lovers, I mean i'm not sure if it counts as angst but it's the end of 17x02 you know what's going on, Light Angst, No i can't really believe i did this either, Now from the other perspective in the scene though, Or this show in general honestly, Slow Burn, Who would've thought i'd be writing these two
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:34:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28189269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myosotises/pseuds/virere
Summary: Somehow though, Cormac knows. Against all odds, whatever it is that clues him in—despite the dark, despite the slight mist of rain on his face, despite the fact that he desperately wants to believe he isn’t really seeing her there now—heknows.Then he’s running.It's been a while since he'd felt this kind of fear.
Relationships: Meredith Grey/Cormac Hayes
Comments: 14
Kudos: 46





	falling, falling

**Author's Note:**

> Did not expect this pairing to absolutely ruin me but here we are; haven't quite decided whether it's a positive or negative yet. Title inspired by [Falling](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wbAIh5RHjuM) by Lyra because,, yeah.

Everything was fine until he walked out to the parking lot. Well, granted, not _fine_ obviously; everything was shit, the world was broken, a pandemic was sweeping the globe and some idiots were putting their newly transplanted kidneys in danger by having parties and running from wildfires.

But as Chief Bailey liked to say so often, you had to find a little joy. And today, Cormac had gotten that in the form of surgery, of saving a life instead of calling one. Better yet, he’d gotten a little joy in the form of surgery with _Meredith Grey_ ; had gotten the privilege of seeing her smile when she’d told him she was saving a kidney, the privilege of seeing her in action—things he hadn’t fully appreciated the first time it had happened. Hell, even having a simple conversation was sometimes difficult to find when all they did during shifts was run codes in the COVID ward.

So today, everything was the closest it could resemble to being fine. Everything was _fine_.

And then Cormac found her collapsed on the ground.

* * *

He freezes when he first sees the figure lying limp on the wet asphalt, the chill that had come over him as he left the hospital solidifying cold and heavy in his chest. It can’t be. Not her. Not when she’d been joking around and smiling and operating with him only a few hours ago. It can’t.

Somehow though, Cormac knows. Against all odds, whatever it is that clues him in—despite the dark, despite the slight mist of rain on his face, despite the fact that he desperately wants to believe he isn’t really seeing her there now—he _knows_.

Then he’s running.

“No. _No_.” He hears a faint thud behind him as his bag tumbles down, swiftly followed by the softer clink of his car keys as they slip from slack fingers, but he can’t manage to care about that, not when his vision is tunneling. That numbing cold inside of him hurtles into free fall as he gets closer. _She isn’t moving_. “Grey—Grey!”

He drops to the ground, reaching for her shoulder with both hands. “Grey. Grey, can you hear me?” She’s turned away from him, hair splayed out around her head, and her eyes are closed. She doesn’t respond.

“Somebody help me!” He’s shouting now, the cold pit somewhere inside him sinking deeper as he beckons to the people rushing over. How long had she been like this? Or a better question, how had _he_ been the one to find her? Meredith Grey was the best damn surgeon at the hospital they were right outside of—and not _one_ bloody person had noticed she was down?

“ _Careful_ ,” he warns as someone crouches down to help him turn Grey over, barely sparing them a nod in thanks. He catches the bite in his voice and takes in a steadying breath. “I got her head.” Cormac smoothes a hand down her jacket before taking her arm, the other moving under the nape of her neck. His fingers slide through the strands of her hair as he cradles her head gently—it’s an oddly personal gesture, and it feels all the worse that he’s doing it as she’s unconscious. He tries to push it from his mind as they shift her onto her back together; Grey needs help _now_. He can focus on everything else later, after he knows that she’s awake and stable.

Her eyes are still closed.

“I need rapid response, oxygen and a gurney now, go! Hurry up!” There’s a roughness to his tone he doesn’t quite recognize, although the fear—because that’s what this is, the ice racing through his veins; _fear_ —is all too familiar. The helplessness too. It had been a constant presence during the never-ending visits to the hospital with Abby, the first time Liam had gotten that stomach bug since they’d lost her—when he’d told Grey that story he’d mentioned he nearly had to be committed in his worry, all of his medical training rendered useless in the moment.

He’s determined not to let the same thing happen now, whatever he may be feeling.

Cormac glances back down at Grey again, studying the curve of her mouth, the shadows under her eyes. She’s tired—they all are—and he can’t help but wonder if this is his fault. He’d overheard her this morning, talking with Avery about how she missed being in an O.R.. When he’d gotten Frankie’s case, as terrible as it was, there it had been again; the silver lining, the little joy. He could give this to Grey, give her a chance to take a break and do something other than stem an endless flow of COVID patients. Had it been too much?

“Can you hear me, Grey?” he tries again, hand moving from cupping her cheek to shaking her shoulder. He hates the expression on her face now; it’s too calm, too placid. She’s as beautiful as she always is, quick and kind and understanding, but he absolutely hates the stillness in her features—it doesn’t match the person he knows her to be. Where’s the defiance from when she countered him on his first day? The amusement from when she’d talked about Yang? The delight from every surgery he’s had the pleasure of doing with her, the excitement of getting to cut and the satisfaction of completing the final step? Where’s the courage, the resolve, the force that had drawn him in so instantly?

Cormac doesn’t know the Meredith Grey before him now, and it scares him much more than he’s ready—or willing—to admit.

“Grey, come on. Stay with me, Grey,” he says, scanning her face for any sign of movement, of recognition. There’s a wordless plea in his voice, written into the way he’s holding her, talking to her.

Grey. _Meredith_. Her name hovers on the tip of his tongue, so easily said—but not so easily taken back. Even with her head propped up between his hands, he can’t bring himself to do it. Calling her by name has a weight to it, an attachment; it’s what her friends call her, her _family_. And even though she’s the closest friend he has in this place—because normal colleagues don’t go seeking each other out for company at the end of a tough day, hiding out in an office with a bottle of whiskey to share—he isn’t ready for that step forward, that step beyond the comfortable familiarity they’d settled into.

Cormac is a coward.

But Grey? Well. He doesn’t think anyone would ever call her a coward—she was the exact opposite, always arguing with others and putting herself in danger just to stand her ground and picking a battle over any little thing she found worth believing in. She was fierce and strong and so damn _stubborn_ when she fought. And while Cormac may be a coward, he isn’t ready to see her go just yet. He has to believe she’d fight just a little more.

“I’m here, don’t worry,” he repeats, looking up for that help that should be arriving any second—what was taking so _long_? “It’ll be okay.”

It would. It had to. She would be okay.

Right?

“I’m right here. I’m right here,” he promises, and he hopes Grey can still hear him, wherever she is. He hopes that she hears him and he hopes that she stays. “I’m not going anywhere.”

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this a couple of weeks ago because how can you not think about this scene and thought I'd edit and post it because why not? This goes out to like the ten other people who also support the ship. But yeah, tried something new so please let me know if you have any thoughts! (Also goes out to anybody who also struggles with calling Hayes Cormac because I had the same issue even though it's in his point of view?? Doesn't make it any less weird though :/)


End file.
